


Last Friday Night

by fructoselollipop



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fructoselollipop/pseuds/fructoselollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A song!fic based off Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Friday Night

_Last Friday night; yeah, we danced on tabletops and we took too many shots. Think we kissed, but I forgot…._

Hawke barely trusted herself with both feet on the ground right now, and yet Isabela was peering down at her from the table right in the center of the tavern, upon which she was perched, expecting her to come on up.

"You only live once, right?" She was saying, reaching a hand down to help up the mage, her eyes alight with adventure. Her smile was impish, as it often was, and Hawke knew that she was going to regret it, but she took the other woman’s hand and allowed herself to be hauled up on the rickety tabletop.

A cheer went up around the bar. It had been a typical night in the Hanged Man… until the Champion showed up and started doing shots with Isabela. Word spread through Lowtown like the cheap gossip it was, and before Hawke was even tipsy the tavern was packed with admirers hoping for a chance to witness some juicy and illicit behavior from their city’s hero.

They had no idea what they were in for. Neither was Hawke.

As she was finding her footing, Isabela was downing what felt like her thirtieth shot. She shook her black mane back and pointed blearily at Anders, who was sitting near the fire with his lute. “Play!" The Warden lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk (he must have been in good spirits) and struck up a jolly tune. He was still pretty terrible, but Isabela didn’t seem to mind. She threw her arms around Hawke’s waist and pulled her into a raunchy sort of dance.

The noise level rose and Hawke’s head spun. She was sure this wasn’t a good idea, yet she couldn’t find the desire to put an end to it. The alcohol coursing through her had done it’s job of lowering her inhibitions; she didn’t give a single fuck for the way Isabela’s hands had creeped down to her hindquarters, nor the way she pressed their sexes against one another, tossing winks out casually to the cat-calling crowd.

Could the liquor be entirely blamed for the surge of pleasure Hawke felt in her loins? Was the carefree air in the tavern completely at fault for the rush of endorphins? Should Isabela be chastised for her talent of making Hawke want to do the craziest things?

It was likely a combination of all three. But it was of no matter. Hawke wasn’t thinking about any of that when she leaned in and pressed a fierce kiss on the Rivaini’s lips.

For a brief moment the crowd went silent, and then they went wilder than ever. If Hawke was thinking clearly, she would have realized that there she was, perched on a pedestal for all to see, snogging her notoriously promiscuous female friend.

But she wasn’t.

_Last Friday night; yeah we maxed our credit cards and got kicked out of the bar, so we hit the boulevard…._

Corff finally threw them out when one of the table leg’s snapped and for the life of them they could not come up with the coin to pay for it. Hawke was certain she had come with a considerably full coinpurse, yet she could not find it on her. She thought vaguely that she should be more concerned about that, but the way Isabela was pressing her up against the exterior wall of the Hanged Man and kissing her was, admittedly, incredibly distracting.

They were halfway out of their clothes when the crowd, led by Varric, Anders, and Fenris, spilled out onto the street with them, still egging them on.

Isabela huffed with annoyance and pulled herself away from Hawke, an act which triggered her own irritation. How was she ever to get laid with this lot following them everywhere they went?

"Let’s ditch these land-lubbers," came Isabela’s voice in her ear. “I’ve just had a great idea."

Thankfully, Varric seemed to sense his friends’ frustrations and started dispersing the crowd. “Alright, back inside everyone. No free show for you tonight. I will, however, be accepting payments of 5 gold for stadium seating, 10 for balcony, and 20 if you want to be right on top of the action."

"Varric!"

A few were disappointed to learn that he was, in fact, joking, and eventually the crowd thinned. And not a moment too soon, because Isabela was tugging on Hawke’s arm impatiently, her breasts starting to shake loose from that ridiculously revealing tunic she favored.

Hawke grinned and took the Rivaini’s hand, and together they sprinted off deeper into Lowtown, the Hanged Man disappearing from view.

"You should go after them," Anders told Varric as the echoes of the women’s laughter faded away. “Isabela is used to waking up in a ditch, but I get the feeling Hawke needs to be looked after."

"You’re probably right, Blondie," Varric replied, his eyebrows lifted, “but who says I have to do it?"

Anders smirked, not at all convinced by Varric’s nonchalance. “We have our own business to take care of, don’t we?"

Fenris simply glowered as he dragged Anders toward Hightown by the wrist, leaving Varric shaking his head at his choice of incredibly horny friends.

_Last Friday night; we went streaking in the park, skinny dipping in the dark, then had a Menage a Trois…._

By the time they reached the docks, Isabela and Hawke were both completely naked, a trail of clothes left behind them leading all the way back to Lowtown. And they didn’t slow until they reached the end of the pier, where Isabela canon-balled into the water without abandon.

Hawke hesitated on the edge; where she came from you would have to be crazy to do such a thing (well, she was certainly crazy, but that was neither here nor there), but after a moment Isabela’s magnificent head reappeared. “Come on in," she called. “The water’s lovely. Nothing like Fereldan, I promise."

That was all the assurance she needed and a only a few moments later, she was engaged in a heated splashing fight with her friend. And from there it was just a short leap to a passionate kiss, as they treaded water and clutched each other fiercely. Then, suddenly, Isabela’s fingers were probing Hawke’s entrance and did not even have the courtesy to wait for permission before they were inside her.

A gasp burst from Hawke’s lips unbidden, and she rolled her head back into the water, letting the moonlight bathe them in it’s ethereal glow. Isabela had leaned in and nibbled at her neck, sending spasms of pleasure through the mage’s body. She reached out blindly - her eyes had fluttered closed as Isabela worked her fingers in her - for something of the Rivaini, and found her side. She worked her way up and found a massive breast, tweaking the nipple between her thumb and index finger.

"Oh, aren’t you foxy," Isabela said in a low whisper against Hawke’s clavicle. “Don’t worry about me right now, this is about you getting off."

"Actually," came a familiar voice from the pier. “There’s reason to worry about both of you." The women looked up, startled (Hawke with a low moan as Isabela’s fingers were pulled from her), and saw Varric sitting on the edge, their clothes folded neatly in a pile at his side. “The guard was informed about your - ah - disturbance, and Hawke’s name came up. Aveline’s on her way."

"Shit," Hawke groaned and she made her way back to the dockside. She didn’t even try to hide her nakedness as she pulled her glistening body from the water, and found herself oddly pleased as Varric’s eyes tracked her the whole way. “Let’s get back to the estate. We can finish this there."

"That wasn’t directed at me, I take it," Varric said dryly, injecting just enough envy in his tone to elicit smirks from both the women.

"Oh, Varric," Isabela purred as she too emerged from the water. “How dare you tease us with a night with your chest hair. It’s most uncouth."

Varric twisted his mouth into a smirk of his own, “Ladies, ladies, who said I was teasing?" He curled an arm around them both and blessed Andraste for his height as he pressed a kiss into each of their hips. And tangled up with each other like that, they made their way back to Hightown, not even bothering to dress.

Some Friday night.

_Yeah, I think we broke the law. Always say we’re gonna stop. This Friday night, do it all again._


End file.
